


A Thousand words spoke without Weight.

by pseudofoucault333



Series: 30 days of Sterek [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Actor Derek, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bisexual Derek Hale, Bodyguard!Boyd, Derek and Laura are Twins, Derek's Past, F/F, F/M, Gay Stiles, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PA!Danny, PA!Erica, PA!Hayden, Past Drug Use, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Slow Burn, Stubborn Stiles, Writer Stiles, actor!Jackson, actor!isaac, hairdresser!Marin, implied/referenced eating disorder, make up artist!Paige, model!Kate, model!Laura, muscian!Matt, runner!Mason, runner!liam, scriptwriter!Brett, socialite!Cora
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:38:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4449599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofoucault333/pseuds/pseudofoucault333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is an author known for his biggest unexpected literary hit which is about to be turned into a large blockbuster movie. Derek is the only Actor that Stiles can see playing the main character, the same actor who has loved his book from the moment it was first published. But how  will Derek react when he realises that he was the sole inspiration for the novel which wasn't <b>supposed</b> to see the light of day let alone a bookshop shelf?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stiles takes charge.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles, Lydia and Danny find themselves in LA, for some negotiations with some film execs.

**Title:** A Thousand words Spoke without Weight  
**Author:** pseudofoucault333 // Redtintedhale  
**Rating:** E - to be safe with later chapters  
**Pairing:** Derek/Stiles  
**POV:** 1st  
**Summary:** Stiles is an author known for his biggest unexpected hit which is about to be turned into a large blockbuster movie. Derek is the only Actor that Stiles can see playing the main character, the same actor who has loved his book from the moment it was first published. But how will Derek react when he realises that he was the sole inspiration for the novel which wasn't **supposed** to see the light of day let alone a bookshop?  
**Disclaimer:** The whole concept of Teen Wolf © the Satan that is Jeff Davis, don’t sue because the contents of my bank account is only worth next to nothing in US$. Also and I can't stress this enough I don't give permission for this or any other of my stuff to be reposted on Goodreads or anywhere else. If I find out it is I'll be pissed. Plot mostly based on fiction…i.e not real….but a girl can wish <3 title © Scars on 45. This was written for my own 30 days of Sterek as I was trying to get my foot in the teen wolf door :)  
**Author Notes:** Povs change according to chapter which will become clear. This is unbeta'd so any mistakes found are in fact my own :) Anyone open to betaing please message me on my tumblr [Here.](http://redtintedhale.tumblr.com/) Currently this isn't finished so it may take a while between chapters with my Corsaac on the go too, but I am determined to finish this. Comments and Kudos = pwp and cookies :D

It had been a surprise of the large kind when I had first got the phone call from the executives at Paramount telling me that they wanted to make my book into a movie. It had admittedly become more and more common as the comic book phase from Marvel, DC and even a few indie companies which I love with every part of my being, were no longer as popular even with the inclusion of some more complex character arcs. But at the same time I hadn't been expected to be picked for the honor.

But as ever, Lydia had been the one to take the call, the one to tell me we were going to the studio for the negations in relation to the contract to make sure I was given as much creative control as possible. There would be nothing worse than my whole creative concept being ripped to pieces by directors and producers who thought they knew better than me, the author. I hadn’t exactly been keen on leaving Beacon Hills to go to LA for the negotiations in the slightest, but that wasn’t helped by the fact I was supposed to be working on another manuscript, the very manuscript that Lydia had been bitching at me about for the past few weeks. Though this now seemed to take precedent over that, leaving Danny running around like a headless chicken making calls for rentals and hotel rooms while Lydia sat on my couch clicking away on her phone while I packed.

“How long are these negotiations supposed to be taking? I mean it’s not like we’ll be staying there for the next month right? Just long enough for me to check things through about creative license and royalties before I come back right?” I asked, fidgeting with the shirt in my hands as my gaze rested on Lydia who didn’t even look up.

“It’ll take however long it takes to make sure you get a good cut Stiles.” Lydia murmured from behind her phone not even bothering to look at me.

“Yeah but how long is that? I mean I’m supposed to be working on the manuscript from hell in case you’ve forgotten.” I pointed out, shoving the now thoroughly creased shirt amongst the others before rummaging through my closet for anything else.

Admittedly my wardrobe had changed a lot since high school when plaid shirts, under shirts, hoodies and skinny jeans had been the norm. It hadn’t been by choice and if I’d had my way I would still be wearing those every minute of the day when Lydia wasn’t around, but with my first real pay check she’d dragged me to sunset boulevard and I’d been pushed into every branded piece of clothing in her reach, from suits all the way to underwear and socks. I hadn’t been happy that day and Lydia had only made it up to me with one tray of curly fries. Rude.

I’ll admit it had helped in the past when it came to going to book signings and the like, wanting to appear professional as much as possible, but when it came to packing for an occasion like this, I was effectively spoiled for choice in so many ways. It often took me an hour on a good day to decide what to wear, but trying to preplan what to wear for the next however long was next to impossible.

“I thought you said you had been working on it.” Lydia asked suspiciously, her glare pinned on me over her phone as though she knew all along that I’d been lying to her. Not that I had of course, I’d just been…stretching the truth, just a smidge.

“I have! Don’t look at me like that! I can’t write and pack you know!” I said indignantly causing Lydia to roll her eyes and murmur something under her breath as she typed something else into her phone before getting up and pushing me aside.

“Then write and I’ll pick something that won’t be creased or smell like it’s just been sprayed with Febreeze since you last wore it.” Lydia snarked, her phone shoved in her several thousand dollar handbag as she flicked through my closet with the air of a woman who had done this one too many times for her liking.

“I didn’t mean you had to do that! Ugh fine.” I sighed, raising my hands in surrender when she glared at me in the direction of my laptop causing me to pick it up from where it was charging to sit on the couch, my legs crossed Indian style so it could rest on my ankles, before turning my gaze to the open document.

“Er Miss Martin, Mr Stilinski I’ve rented a car to take us there and three rooms at the Hilton for this weekend which can easily be extended should we need to be there longer.” Danny said, standing in front of us, his hair a mess like he had been about to tear it out from having to deal with someone’s incompetence.

“Excellent, thanks Danny. You should go and pack while I reluctantly help Stiles finish off his last bit of packing. If you could pick the car up on the way back that would be good too.” Lydia said flippantly, not even looking at Danny. Luckily Danny had gone to school with me and Lydia he so knew not to take her moods like this too harshly.

“Is that ok Mr. Stilinski?” Danny asked causing me to sigh as my fingers continued to move over the keyboard when I looked up at him. No matter how much I try and tell him to call me Stiles he seems to only revert back to calling me ‘Mr.’ when Lydia’s around, like he wants to seem like an actual professional.

“Sure, go.” I said, shooing him off towards the door and watching him smile as he edged outside before I moved my gaze back towards my laptop, ignoring the ache in my legs already forming from being in this position. The pain always helped to keep me focus, especially when I had neglected to take my ADHD medicine that morning which was more often than not the case.

“I can’t believe you don’t know how to pack for yourself by now, Stiles,” Lydia bitched as she threw a suit along with a pair of Calvin Klein jeans and shirt on top of my suitcase before rummaging through my gradually increasing shoe collection, throwing aside an old Chuck Taylor with disgust clear on her face.

“And I told you, you didn’t need to pack for me but you want me to write this sooner, so I’m making the best of a bad situation here Lyds.” I said, shifting my position a little while my fingers kept flying across my keyboard like they had a mind of their own.

“Fine, fine. I’d say if you just grab your toiletries, _including_ your meds, and throw them in you’re done,” Lydia said, shoving a pair of brand new Chuck Taylors into the edge of the clothes and a pair of loafers to match my suit before moving back to her spot on the couch beside me.

“Thanks.” I sighed, putting my laptop down when I’d finished a chapter and going to grab the last few things I needed for my packing. I had turned back to my writing, Lydia’s gaze back on her phone when Danny reappeared. I shoved my laptop and adapter into its case, while Lydia took my bag out to the car for me, leaving me to grab everything else I needed including locking up before leaving the building.

XOX

The negotiations were something I hadn't had to go through since I had been negotiating my contract with the publishing house that published all my works…let alone with Lydia’s newly created firm. Of course on both those occasions I’d had Lydia or Scott on my side to fight in my corner, but since Lydia was doing this on my behalf, her gaze moving over the contract I had been offered by the Paramount execs, it was like I didn’t feel like I was really necessary. That I had only been brought here for publicity’s sake when I could have been trying to catch up on my words for my manuscript.

But every so often Lydia would point out something to me as though to check how I felt about it. It was minimal things, like if I was OK with the director they had chosen or if I wanted to be involved in the process of casting, which was yes to both by the way. It was only when it came to the script writing part that I could hear the alarm bells ringing in my head as I looked at Lydia wide eyed, she didn’t seem surprised like it was common practice for the author of the book to not be involved in the script writing process, but that was definitely the thing I had to put my foot down on. This story was my baby, no way in hell was I going to let someone who had no idea about the story cut out seemingly unimportant scenes just because the execs had given them a time limit.

“No. Nuh uh. Not happening. I refuse to give a script writer control over this when I could just as easily do it myself.” I said, feeling Lydia’s gaze narrow at me like she didn’t appreciate the fact I had spoken to the execs without talking to her about it first.

“I'm sorry Mr. Stilinski but that is part of the contract which is none negotiable,” one of the nameless execs said, causing me to glare in their direction, which seemed to shock them all. Even Lydia seemed a bit taken back.

“No, no you don’t seem to understand. See, this content is my own work and my creation, if you refuse to let me do the script writing as I see fit then I refuse the right to hand over the creative license. I know enough about creative law to know that it means you can’t go ahead with the film full stop. So why don’t you give me a call when you have thought that through huh?” I said, letting my gaze move over all the occupants at the table before throwing the pen I had been fidgeting with for the past hour on to the paper copy of the contract and walking out the room.

I heard them murmuring amongst themselves before the door slammed closed behind me, leaving Lydia to try and negotiate that particular part of the contract. She would no doubt understand how I felt and refuse to budge, admittedly she would call me crazy for putting up such a fuss once we were off the lot, but it was the same with every other contract I had had in regards to my work.

I spent a while pacing up and down the corridor outside the boardroom, trying to calm myself down from the adrenaline fuelled high and ease my shaking hands. I moved my gaze to my phone to send a message to Scott about this absolute insanity, even though I knew he was working so he probably wouldn't reply until we were back at the hotel.

I sighed as I shoved my phone back into the pocket of my suit jacket, but was surprised when I heard the door to the boardroom being opened and saw Danny hovering there, beckoning me back inside. I frowned but did as requested, following his lead and taking my seat again between him and Lydia, the redhead who from the sounds of it was finalizing the new contract. From the sounds of it I’d got my way…though it was going to cut it close for me to write my current novel and write the script.

Still, the amount of times I had to initial each page to show I had read and understood what it entailed made it feel like it was worth it. We finally reached the last page and I took a glimpse at Lydia for the go ahead which I got silently in the form of a nod, leaving me to scribble my signature and the date beside it. I let Danny unfurl the pages and put them in the right order as me and Lydia both got up to shake hands with the execs, all of whom were still giving me weary looks from my outburst, before leading the way out the room. The execs filed out murmuring amongst themselves about getting in contact with the producers and directors they had in mind.

I let Lydia lead the way out the building with Danny on my heels with my copy of the paperwork, unable to keep the smile off my lips that my book was now in the beginning stages of coming to life.


	2. The Other side of the fence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Peek into Derek's World and the first time his and Stiles' worlds inadvertently meet.

“Okay so you have an interview and photo shoot scheduled with GQ, a photo shoot with Vanity Fair, and an editorial with Vogue all booked sometime over the weekend,” Erica listed from my bedroom while I had a shower after my morning run. As much as I loved my PA like another sister, there were some barriers that should not be every crossed, especially after a drunken kiss at an Oscars after party and the fact her other half was my bodyguard. True, Boyd would never let any personal bitterness interfere with his work, but that didn’t mean that I was willing to risk it.

“You do know that Pauli still wants me to keep working over the weekend with redoing that damned love scene they lost so they can do the editing before the execs ask to see it for certifying right?” I sighed, turning off the shower and wrapping a towel around my hips while using another to dry my hair before venturing back into the bedroom to dress.

“Yes, because I do still hold your schedule in my well-manicured fingers after all.” Erica said, rolling her big brown eyes which were now fixed on her phone to avoid watching me change. Not that she hadn’t seen me in less when on sets and photo shoots, but that was few and far between, something we agreed to never speak about along with that aforementioned kiss.

“I’m guessing Mom worked those appointments in then? I wish she would at least ask to double check before she did that,” I murmured as I pulled a white Henley over my head.

“Derek I just do what the boss lady says OK? I can’t exactly tell her to stop booking all these promo shoots for _The Star Never Burns_ , even if you haven’t finished it yet. We’ll talk to Pauli and see if you can finish up before then.” Erica shrugged, her text tone grabbing her attention, giving me just enough reprieve to put on my underwear and jeans before she looked up again.

“I suppose. What about the talks for my next movie? I thought Mom was in talks with Michaela Song about the lead role in that thriller picture…or that guest appearance for _The Mentalist_ I auditioned for months ago,” I called as I retreated into the bathroom to finish getting ready. I only reappeared when my teeth were brushed and hair styled with as little product as I could get away with before it was practically coated in gel by my stylist when we got on set.

“I don’t know. I’ll make a note to ask her about them the next time I see her. Best focus on what you do need to do though,” Erica said, getting effortlessly up to her feet as she watched over her phone as I put on some sneakers and slid my arms into a Harvard Hoodie. It was only once I had my sunglasses on and Boyd was at the door as both a bodyguard and driver that I was ushered out the house in the direction of the silver Mercedes we used for trips into the city to set.

The Hale family home, known as the Triskelion, was one of the largest, most remote and secure in Beverly Hills. I had brought it with the pay check from my blockbuster début. It had been the best choice considering the fact my entire family had moved from Beacon Hills with me to help keep me balanced and grounded in the transition to life in the spotlight. Of course, my own career had been smooth sailing compared to that of my twin sister Laura, a model of international proportions who had been used for every prestigious fashion show and high class brand available.

She had been the one who had demonstrated just how important the support was as after several around-the-world shows and shoots resulted in her coming back with a cocaine addiction and severe case of bulimia from the strain. She had been in a treatment center for both the drugs and disorder for nearly two years, and with her progress at a snail’s pace it had meant there was more time to devote to my career, which was how my Mom Talia quickly became my agent and manager. Of course that came a bit late for my own personal crisis in the form of a rather nasty ex-girlfriend, leaving me with a heavy dependency on our family, which became my saving grace.

Our younger sister Cora, on the other hand, was more of a Los Angeles Socialite, the kind who lived off our famous family’s name in any way she could manage, using it to get into the clubs and whatever celebrity hotspot took her fancy. She was the Hale sibling most frequently on the front page of tabloids because of the latest conquest or married man she had been spotted flirting with, or even photographed by the paparazzi sneaking out of an unsavory club or hotel known for being the rendezvous spot for all celebrity affairs.

It wasn’t what I had wanted for either of my sisters, in truth I would have been perfectly fine if I had saved them the spotlight and left them behind in Beacon Hills. Of course there was nothing to say without them I would have joined their level of fame, but at least they would have been safe and out the spotlight. They would have been able to have real jobs that didn’t fixate on people’s appearances obsessively, what brands they wore or who they knew. But of course it was easier to think of what could have been compared to what had been when I had nothing else to think about.

The drive to Paramount studies seemed to be riddled with traffic jams, leaving me at the mercy of the paparazzi every few red lights even if the windows were tinted as much as was legal. In this town it was easy to be paranoid and never think it was enough. Still, finally we arrived as Erica was shoving my phone into my possession, which she usually took care of when I was busy. But every so often she used it to show me the things I should be made aware of where my family, ergo _Cora_ , was involved. Even the mention of her name with a phone in her hand was enough of a warning for me to just accept it to see what the damage was.

In this case it ended up being several candid photos of her with her arm around the waist of married musician, Matt Daehler, emerging from the Chamberlain West hotel, which was the one of the most renowned for being the go-to hotel for those in affairs. There was a fresh patch of bruises on her neck. But that didn’t even seem to be the worst part, if the bandage that was usually placed over newly done tattoo on her shoulder, was anything to go by.

“Oh god what’s she done this time? Has Mom seen this yet or do I have the pleasure of being the one to break it to her?” I sighed, resignedly as I looked up from the phone at Erica whose gaze was already back on her own.

“From what I can gather from Peter’s paralegal’s rather frantic and teary phone call this morning she’s so aware she practically on the rampage,” Erica said, watching out the window as Boyd finally pulled up in the lot between two very large SUVs.

“Oh great, I can see that the family dinner tonight is going to be a joy and a half.” I murmured, shoving my phone into my hoodie’s pocket as Boyd opened the door for me.

I stepped out and moved aside while Boyd walked around to let Erica out of her side, letting the couple murmur amongst themselves about whatever plans they had for that night in the shadow of one of the SUVs. I heard them exchange a bit of banter and a quick kiss before Erica was back at my side with her game face on and Boyd was behind me shielding my back from the paparazzi’s attempts to take candid photos for whichever blog or tabloid would buy them.

We made it past the perimeter’s security barricade and wove amongst the crowd of extras for various movies and shows which were being taped, wardrobe employees with costumes on rails to get them ready, and the odd runner trying to deliver a new script or on a coffee run before the stars went on the rampage. It all seemed to whittle down once we were on the correct set for the movie I was cast in and walked in the direction of my trailer which was settled between wardrobe, make-up and hair, and across from the trailers of my main co-stars.

Boyd settled himself in his usual spot outside the trailer, as he did every time, while I slipped inside minus Erica to change into my first of what was undoubtedly going to be many outfits for the day. Thankfully the wardrobe staff or a runner had left it for me in my trailer that morning. A coffee sat on the side beside my script waiting for me, which brought a smile of relief to my face as I set my phone aside before slipping the hoodie off. Only once I was dressed in the insane clothing choice my character Pablo seemed to have for the upcoming scene, a tight pair of stonewashed jeans with white tank top, did I hear what I was sure was an unwelcome knock at the door.

“Yeah, what?” I sighed, around a mouthful of coffee.

The door opened to reveal Liam, one of the runners for this movie. He was a good kid if a bit easily overwhelmed and couldn’t seem to look you in the eye if he knew what he was going to say next was destined to piss you off. Which was exactly what he was doing at the moment, holding out a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers in my size on a hanger as though he knew what my reaction was going to be.

“I’m sorry Mr Hale but Mr Kendry has changed the schedule for the day and asked me to give you these to change into,” Liam squeaked.

“Let me guess that damned sex scene redo? Really?!” I said resignedly as I took the boxers off Liam who let go of them like he had been given an electric shock for touching something at the same time as me. But once he was sure I had them, he slipped away with the door thudding closed behind him leaving me to change again.

I set the boxers down, knowing full well that that was probably Erica’s fault because of those damned photo shoots over the weekend. I had been trying to put off redoing this scene as much as possible, because as much as I liked my co-star, the first time faking a sex scene with her had been awkward enough. But to do it again, now that I actually knew her, was going to be just painful for a whole other reason. I groaned under my breath as I set about undressing, setting the jeans and white tank top back on their hangers for later before putting on the boxers and covering my naked torso with the hoodie I had worn on to set. It was only when I had the coffee cup, script and phone in my possession as I ventured outside barefoot, ignoring Erica’s wolf whistle, that I led the way towards the hair and make-up trailer.

I made sure to knock at the door to check that the make-up staff weren’t completely overrun with extras for whatever next scene was being shot elsewhere, and heard someone yell ‘come in.’ This time Erica followed me inside and I set my coffee and script down as I sat down in a chair.

“Well, well if it isn’t Mr Hunk? I was looking forward to seeing those abs of yours again.” Paige’s grin came from behind me causing me to look up from my script and roll my eyes good-naturedly at my friend while she grabbed the right supplies. I’d known Paige since I was young and new in the show biz game, being the make-up artist on my first TV appearance. She’d helped to soothe my nerves a little when I was freaking out and between jobs we’d catch up every so often to chat. It wasn’t exactly rare for me to be on the same set as her but her reputation as a top notch make-up artist made it a pretty steady occurrence.

“Yeah, yeah, everyone gawp at the guy with his shirt off,” I drawled, my gaze back on the script as I flicked through the pages to find the right scene. True there was little if any dialogue but the bit that there was I just wanted to get over with…even if it did sound like something out of a porno.

“Oh come on Der, the extras will be practically falling over themselves trying to get a piece of you,” Paige winked, as Erica smirked at her from the chair she was in beside me.

“Can you please not? And off the topic at hand, I don’t know if you got the heads up about the change in schedule,” I said questioningly as Paige reached for some of the more grotesque make-up.

“Yes I am aware. Still, we need to make it as perfect as it was the last time for continuity. Let me just find the reference picture…” Paige murmured, rummaging through my make-up file and coming up with a picture of the first time I’d done the scene.

I kept my gaze on the script, more on the directions which I’d scribbled there the last time that the director had probably asked me to take notice of. As Paige set to work I let her conversation with Erica just wash over me like a wave, slowly fading around me while the make-up artist hid all my minimal blemishes under layers of concealer, foundation and barely needed bronzer. It was as bad as the amount of hair gel I knew Marin was going to use whenever she decided to appear, but regardless it was a routine I’d long since got used to and the sooner it was over the sooner I could get on set.

Paige had moved on to coating my chest in bronzer when Liam reappeared, obviously sent by Pauli to make sure I was on my way to set if the way he was biting his lip that I wasn’t done was anything to go by. Pauli was one of the most overly demanding directors I had ever worked with in my career, but as with the others from Burton to Howard, it helped to keep me on my toes.

“Yes I’m almost done Liam, just give me a minute. Marin still needs to do his hair…speaking of which…Marin get your lazy ass out here right now if you want to still be employed by the end of the day!” Paige yelled in the direction of the back causing me to grimace at the volume and glare at her.

“I’m here, I’m here just give me a minute. I was trying to find the gel in the back,” Marin sighed appearing from the back with a tub of hair gel and the reference Polaroids of the style they’d agreed on for my character at the beginning of production which she leaned against the mirror.

I made myself straighten up once Paige was done and had moved to put the make up back in its spot, giving Marin the benefit of the doubt so she didn’t have to bend to reach my hair. Though that didn’t stop me from cringing at the sound of her scooping some gel out the tub to mold my hair in the right style. Liam was practically bouncing on the soles of his feet and biting his bottom lip so hard it was going to bleed by the time I was finally done, leaving me and Erica, with Boyd bringing up the rear, to follow his lead out the trailer towards the right set. He ended up leading us via a slightly indirect route compared to the shortcut I had been using for the past few months, but as we were doing so a group of three people, two men and one women, dressed in pristine suits seemed to be walking between sets towards the exit. It was nothing unusual as sometimes execs would wander around to take the odd glimpse at things in production, but the way they stopped in their tracks was a little odd. I rose an eyebrow as the more sharply dressed male with entrancing brown eyes, cute upturned nose, moles littering his pale skin almost like constellations across a night’s sky, and a scruffily styled hair cut was whispering knowingly with the redheaded female, his eyes sparkling as they seemed to follow my form.

It was nothing new for me, since I was given the go over by practically all strangers in a room no matter where I was, because my name and face were always at the top of Hollywood’s A-list. But something about the younger man seemed familiar, making me want to stop and actually interact with him, even if I was supposed to be on a set.

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Erica murmured from over my shoulder once the three of us had rounded the next corner on to the set dressed like a penthouse apartment’s bedroom.

“Yeah definitely looks like it.” Boyd’s baritone voice agreed as I shrugged off my hoodie before throwing it on to my chair beside my copy of the script while Liam disappeared to fetch my co-star before Pauli asked him why she wasn’t there.

“Or maybe he’s just never met a celebrity face to face before. Now can I please just get this scene over with before I freeze to death?” I sighed, leaving my PA and bodyguard to get settled on the bed before my co-star appeared, my mind drifting into character and all thoughts of the man fading.


	3. Fanboy/Scriptwriter Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' reaction to seeing Derek....and the story behind how his novel came to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my new beta the lovely [Julie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Julibean19/profile) my previous chapters got the beta treatment along with this new chapter :) I hope you guys enjoy!

“Lyds, I want him,” I repeated, flailing wildly as though hoping it would communicate to Lydia and Danny both how much I wanted him while they continued to lead the way off the lot towards where the rental car was parked.

“Yes Stiles you’ve said that at least twice already but he’s obviously busy,” Lydia sighed, the sigh of a woman who, to this day, still didn’t understand why she continued to put up with my insanity once we left high school. Though she seemed to be keeping her attention on opening the car before I got caught up by Derek’s entourage for acting up.

“Lydia you don’t understand! That was Derek fucking Hale. He was the guy that I pictured as Garvan from the moment I started writing!” I said, letting Danny shove me into the backseat with little dignity and close the door as though he knew if he didn’t get me inside I would still be arguing my case in Paramount’s Parking lot hours later. 

“Yeah, nothing to do with the fact you had a crush on him of enormous proportions or anything,” Danny joked as he sat shotgun. Though the knowledge did make Lydia’s eyebrow finally raise in recognition as though she finally understood why I was so adamant on having Derek as the lead in the movie, but the fact that Danny remembered about my crush made my complexion flush red like a teenager again.

“That’s…that’s not the point Danny. Lyds, please! We need to at least see if he’s interested in an audition if nothing else. Please!” I begged, watching Lydia roll her eyes as we drove out the lot.

“If it will stop you acting like your teenage self after I’ve spent thousands upgrading your image and you promise to actually take your Adderal, then I’ll get in touch with his representation when we’re back at the hotel. Danny?” Lydia said, looking at my PA out the corner of her eye as we drove down Melrose Avenue in the direction of the hotel.

“I’m already on it, looking it up as we speak.” Danny murmured from where his gaze was fixated on his cell phone as he probably tried to contact people who knew people who knew Derek Hale’s people. The amount of networking I’d had to go through to have those connections in the first place was just plain painful, but the fact that I had those contacts had made it worth it in the long haul, especially for moments like this.

True, when I’d been writing _Soul Crossed_ I’d been very enamored with Derek Hale. He was the guy I would drag Scott to see movies of through most of high school, even if he would object every damned time. It had kind of helped that Derek was a local boy born and bred. It hadn’t been uncommon to see him around at Thanksgiving and Christmas visiting what little family he still had in Beacon Hills. But after his father left his mother, if the tabloids were to be believed, he finally packed up the family and moved them into the house he’d brought in the hills of Los Angeles. 

There was a little truth to what Danny was saying, my crush on him…idol worship…whatever you wanted to call it had been just downright embarrassing. My friends, who weren’t as loyal or understanding as Scott, had teased me shamelessly about my habit of having things for people who were way out of my reach. Which, considering my only other crush had been Lydia, was saying something about my taste. But my feelings for Derek paled in comparison, even I had to admit.

Writing _Soul Crossed_ had started as a way to get the feelings for Derek, that I knew were never going to be reciprocated, no way no how, out of my system. Like those fans who get so involved with a pairing in a fandom that they write fanfiction about it, only it was just for me. A world where there was little chance of me being turned down, where there was chance that fate would throw us together romantically and he would actually look at me that way. That he would pick someone like me over all the models, actresses, and socialites in the world fluttering their eyelashes at him, which let’s face it, was just not going to happen when he looked like a model and a porn star had a baby for crying out loud.

Of course, when it was done, not long before my finals, and I had a complete manuscript in front of me, the last thing that had been on my mind was publishing it. Putting it out into the big wide world where anyone could judge and criticize my pathetic feelings for this man I hadn’t even met. I’d not written it for that purpose, more of just a pick-me-up for when I was still being rejected well into my twenties, or having a bad day when a good old smut scene would ease the pain. It was only once I reluctantly let Lydia read it that the thought was put into my mind, as she thought it was something I should consider. She was the one who encouraged me to send it to publishing houses around LA and New York, where it was thankfully accepted by an independent publishing house of someone she knew from her freshman week at MIT.

It all seemed to happen in a whirl wind since up until that moment I’d been content doing my criminology and sociology degree, not even considering anything literary in my future. After that, I was being contacted every few days about progress, but half the time had no idea what it all meant. Thankfully Lydia came to my rescue, putting aside her big IQ which she had been set to use for a physics and mathematics degree at MIT, to instead become my Agent. She was the go-to person that the publisher spoke to, and the person who learned enough legal jargon to look through my contract without screaming, hovering over my shoulder when looking at cover art and giving me an honest Lydia Martin opinion. Danny was only added to the mix part time while he continued his computer science degree at CalTech, but Lydia and I made it work…right up to the moment that it was published under my pseudonym, Genim Spark.

Neither of us, well I know I didn’t, thought it would be anywhere near as popular as it was. The first week we sold ten thousand copies as word spread like wildfire throughout the online community, leaving us having to reprint several times as more and more people ordered, and in some cases pre-ordered copies. It was absolutely insanity. I’d be on flights for my book tour and see people in all classes and airports reading _my _damned book. Lydia didn’t seem to understand why I was so surprised, but I had been sure she was biased in a way I subconsciously knew she would never be. All the interviews, the talks and conferences with the e-book sales on top of physical copies, it was absolutely overwhelming, but I found myself lurking online seeing people shipping Garvan and Rixton, my characters, fiercely seconded only by the other gay couple. There was actually little if any shipping of the implied heterosexual couple but that is nothing new when it comes to fandoms, as I knew all too well.__

__It was only when the outcry started for more books from me, more information about the characters fates, that my contract with Triquetra publishing becoming a sure thing instead of a one off favor for a friend, and I was a real author. It took me a while to find the inspiration for my next novel, and I’ve put out another couple since, but they had never gathered as much recognition and love as _Soul Crossed_._ _

__Finally we arrived at the hotel, Danny’s gaze still on his phone as Lydia led the way inside, leaving me to merely follow and try to start thinking about the casting for the rest of the characters. I knew it was early days, and I still had a book to take apart and convert into script for crying out loud, but at that point as long as Derek was on board the others just wouldn’t matter. He was going to be the star, as I had always written him to be._ _

__With that in mind I set to work, opening the electronic copy of _Soul Crossed_ I’d been carrying around on my computer since it was published, and starting to ease myself into that frame of mind where the dialogue and the stage directions were what I should be focusing on instead of all the description about backgrounds and the like. But it was hard. I had always been the descriptive type of writer who lived for knowing insignificant details about my characters from what color their eyes were to what brand of underwear they wore. This was going to be a challenge that I had a feeling I was going to need help with._ _

__That realization hit me as Lydia was on the phone, presumably to Derek Hale’s management team, in her room leaving me to turn my gaze to Danny. He was the one who held all my contacts in his hand, surely I must have a scriptwriter stored away in there somewhere that would be able to help._ _

__“Oh Danny boy do we have any professional scriptwriters in that little black book of mine?” I asked when he looked up from whatever scheduling he was doing with a questioning look._ _

__“Er, I think there was one…I remember because he mentioned it to me in the form of a cheesy pick-up line. Just a minute…” Danny murmured, his gaze moving swiftly back to his phone as he flicked through the multitude of contacts he’d saved as a backup for me in case I ever lost or busted my phone._ _

__“Ah ha, I found him. Brett Talbot, he was working on mostly indie productions, but he mentioned something about being used to help script the next Star Trek movie at the time. You want me to contact him to help you with this script?” Danny asked, meeting my gaze again as he held up his phone with the contact already highlighted._ _

__“Yeah, please. Tell him in terms of the credit he’ll only be listed as a co-writer though since I was the one who kicked up a fuss about doing this myself.” I said, chewing on my lower lip as I closed my laptop and slid off the bed while he called._ _

__I did need to try and work out the kinks as soon as possible though, there was a time limit before the production team that the Execs had picked out were going to be starting auditions and they would need a script of some kind to use to audition for each part. Either way I would be going back to Beacon Hills come Monday and would definitely need to have some clue about what I was doing before I left. I hope I knew what I was doing._ _

____

XOX

I found myself going to the hotel bar after having the room service meal that Lydia and Danny had both insisted on ordering for me. It was something they always did when I was writing, especially when I became so engulfed in what I was doing that I forgot. But this time instead of writing on my mind, I was fixated on trying to take apart Soul Crossed before I started with the script. I had so far divided it up according to important scenes for the plot and plot points that were non-negotiable, as well as narrowing down a cast list for the producers to start looking for stars for.

This was all after Danny’s phone call to Brett, who had agreed to meet with me to, in effect, mentor me into a scriptwriter’s frame of mind. But the way he had set up our first meeting in the hotel bar told me he was kind of expecting that Danny would be coming with. It was going to be funny to see the look of disappointment on his face when instead he just saw me. Besides, when I’d left to see him both Lydia and Danny had turned in for the night, since I was usually the resident night owl in this party anyway. Hopefully by the time the sun rose I would have at least one script per character for the production crew to use for auditions.

Being that I didn’t remember what Brett looked like, because the amount of people I met at any one time made them mostly a blur, I sat at the bar with a Gin and Tonic, looking around expectantly. There weren’t that many people occupying it that night, the odd couple flirting in corners or the group of girls on a girl’s night getting sloshed on overly expensive cocktails with rude names. But just as I’d taken my first sip of my drink a guy sat beside me and ordered an expensive beer, which I only knew the name of since Scott made me buy him one every time we met up. Not that he liked it or anything, usually ending up leaving the damned thing barely touched, but more just to say that he knew a friend with that much money that an expensive beer didn’t make him flinch.

“So, Genim right?” Brett asked causing me to roll my eyes as the bartender scurried to find a bottle of Brett’s overly pretentious beer. It’s one of the things I hate about networking. Lydia and Danny have always called me by my real name when it comes to introducing people. When it’s a one off, I don’t mind too much but after a while I just feel like screaming “JUST CALL ME STILES!” in their faces. 

“Please just call me Stiles. We don’t need to go through the hardship of you trying to pronounce it right every time you say it. But I am assuming you’re Brett right?” I asked, the bartender uncapping Brett’s beer with a click and pouring the contents into a large pint glass.

“Correct. Is your PA not here with you?” Brett asked, handing over enough cash for both our drinks though his gaze remained pinned on me.

“Danny? Oh, he’s sleeping in his suite. We had a long day.” I shrugged, picking up my glass and leading him away from the bar towards a quieter table as the drunken girls began to chant “shots” over and over again.

“Oh, Ok sure. So he mentioned you’re going to be working on the script for your book being converted into a movie. If I were you would have at least considered leaving it to someone else with the expertise.” Brett said, the two of us sitting down leaving me to sigh.

“Look, this book is very personal to me ok? I didn’t want to see it being torn apart by scriptwriters who have no idea how important each scene, plot point, and sentence of dialogue is. I know all that, I’ve written it. But, I’m too descriptive a writer to dumb it all down into script.” I said, watching him bite his lip and nod wistfully as though he had some clue what I meant.

“Yeah I see what you mean. It can be hard to let the words speak for themselves. But I’m sure I can help you out with that. You just need to learn to simplify it, that’s all. When it comes to converting from novel to movie it’s easier than starting from scratch I’ll give you that, but you do need to expand the parameters a little….especially if you need to have a draft for auditions.” Brett said, taking a sip of his beer and tapping his fingers listlessly against the table.

“Have any solutions at all?” I asked desperately, my twitchy fingers tracing the condensation coating my glass for something to do. 

“I might for the audition pieces. All you need to do is pick one key scene for the characters involved. In the case of rom coms it’s usually the big I love you scene, for action it’s the confrontational speech after the betrayal has been revealed…get my drift, yeah? You pick one for each of the characters and type those up into simple speeches. You’ll be surprised how easy it becomes when you only have the dialogue in front of you.” Brett said, gaze in his beer.

“You make it sound easy…but I suppose that is doable. If only for the auditions anyway. What about the rest?” I asked, downing a desperately needed mouthful of my drink.

“Dude it’s not easy. But you get there. As for the rest…well I’m working on the latest Kevin Costner script at the moment with a friend, but since you will be doing all the writing I’m sure I can be your little shadow. I’ll give you my Skype handle, and all my internet contacts in case you need me, just get in touch and I’ll take you through it. Whether it’s a panic attack, a question about translating plot to words, or even stage directions.” Brett said, grabbing a cardboard coaster and scribbling usernames, email addresses and a Skype name on the back of it.

“Thanks.” I said with a weak smile that he seemed to be able to see through easily.

“Stiles, you’ve got this, ok? You’ll be fine, I’m just your back up in case you start to stress. Anyway, I need to go, I’ve got to get back to plotting with the rest of my crew at Sony. But keep in touch and ask your PA to call me the next time he’s in town, ok?” Brett asked, downing the rest of his beer in record timing before getting up from his chair.

“Yeah sure, thanks for the advice. I’ll probably be seeing you around sooner than you’d think.” I said, grimacing a little when he patted me on the back before leaving. 

Ok, key scenes….key scenes. I could do that. That should be no problem. Still the notion stayed with me as I downed my drink and fidgeted with his contact detail-clad coaster on the way back to my room. I set the coaster aside and pulled up the document I’d been using and set to work with the help of the electronic copy of the book, copying and pasting clumps of dialogue into a new document. Surprisingly it didn’t take me long to have the beginnings of a script according to scene, this might be doable after all.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr.](http://redtintedhale.tumblr.com/)


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